


Radiance and Meringue pie

by orphan_account



Category: The Terror (2018 TV series), The Terror- Dan Simmons
Genre: Dinner dates, First Date, Fluff, Gushy excessive romanticism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14451654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (A sort of sequel to Chest Wound Healed)Harry prepares for a promised dinner with his captain, tucking his fluttering heart behind an ill-fitting tailcoat.





	Radiance and Meringue pie

Harry gently tipped a glass of water into his patients mouth. This one had been in the infirmary before- intense migraines bloomed on the 18 year old deckhand about twice a month, rendering him disoriented and dehydrated. He refused to just send the boy off with Laudanum like most would. As much as he respected his crewmates, he surely didn't trust them with something so addictive.  
“Please try to get some rest tonight, ok?” Harry rubbed the boys shoulders. “Go right to your hammock. Only get up to get a drink of water-- no spirits.”  
His patient got up without a word and walked towards the infirmary doors. Harry was used to his visitors being unresponsive, but it still irked him somewhat. He toiled and worked day after day and night after night just for his patients to nod blindly at his advice and then not follow it.  
He sighed in his chair and folded up his spectacles. He felt as if he were forgetting something. All of his instruments were washed off and shining and the sheets on the infirmary’s bed were clean and straightened. He picked at the wax drips on his desk as he thought.

Then he remembered. Tonight was his private dinner with Captain Fitzjames. Harry completely forgot. He turned in his chair and panicked- He didn't have time to wash fully or comb down his untidy curls. He stared into the small mirror on his desk- he was scragglier than he remembered. Perhaps it was just Harry’s mind painting him as impossibly unready. He pulled his gloves off and ran his fingers through his mutton chops. They stuck out in places and curled unevenly in others. Well, no better time for a trim then right now I suppose, Harry thought. He brought the basin of clean water from next to the infirmary bed up to his desk and grabbed the surgical scissors from his neat display. These were used for slicing skin, severing veins and removing organs, but they would work fine for a quick haircut.  
Harry brushed back his hair and snipped carefully around his cheeks. He ran his fingers through them occasionally to shake free any loose trimmings. They fell into the basin, distorting the reflection of Harry’s chin.  
He inspected himself carefully, snipping quickly at any stray hairs that noticeably stuck out. He considered grabbing his razor and shaving the stubble off of his chin and around his lips when a face suddenly appeared behind him in the mirror.  
“What are you doing?” The patronizing bite of Doctor Stanley's voice startled Harry. He froze, looking for a response.  
“Are those the surgical shears?”  
“I-I’m sorry doctor, I was going to wash them off-”  
“Those have been inside people, mister Goodsir!” he chided  
“I know doctor. Im sorry.” Harry scooted out of his chair and went to place them back with the rest of the instruments. Doctor Stanley snatched the scissors out of his hand before Harry could drop them. He looked down at Harry; It was clear he wanted him out of the infirmary. Harry glanced in the mirror a final time before stumbling out.  
His chin would just have to remain scruffy. He knelt before his chest of clothes, digging for something remotely presentable. He remembered some formal event happening earlier in the expedition and tried to grasp in his mind what he was wearing.  
He pulled out a modest yellow vest. It smelled a little old and one of the buttons was loose. He put it to the side and looked for something to cover it with. He pushed and rummaged until he gripped a wool sleeve near the bottom. His mind sparked- it was an expensive blue tailcoat. He gently extracted the out-of-place garment from the pile of ill fitting and stained hand me downs.  
Looking over its plunging neckline and puffy sleeves, Harry reconsidered. Was he doing too much? He shook the thought from his head and stood with the coat draped over his body. It would destroy Harry if he showed up to James’s door in his everyday clothes, half shaven and already sweaty with anxiety only to see his captain in full glowing radiance.  
He put on a clean(er) white shirt and buttoned the vest over it. He pulled on a pair of light trousers that puffed out a little at the knees. He’ll have to wear his boots. He managed a smile- he looked good so far.  
Problems soon rose as he pushed his arms into the tailcoats’ sleeves. They squeezed his elbows uncomfortably when he bent his arm. He fastened the first two buttons nicely, but struggled on the next. He worried that the last one might pop as he forced it into place. Harry had gained more weight than he expected. The endless tiring bustle of the ship and the crews unsavory treatment of Harry caused the sensitive doctor to occasionally break into food storage and stress eat at times. Countless musty biscuits and the occasional wrapped chocolate became a comforting practice when you had no shoulders to cry on. He frowned as he got deeper into his own head.  
Perhaps he didn't deserve this dinner. Perhaps he was being pushy when he reminded his captain about his offer. Perhaps he had already gotten too comfortable with James, mooching off his charisma in an attempt to quench his touch-starved amygdala. The dread was then suppressed, washed over by the memory of that day- James sincerity and honesty. The love and fire in his eyes. His utter trust in Harry. The way he held his hands and caressed his lips. Harry smiled at the memory. James was perhaps the nicest person on the boat to Harry, which reassured him that his presentability wouldn’t be the highlight of the night.  
Harry reminded himself not to breath in too fully or the button on his coat would surely burst. He smoothed his hand over his chest and stomach and donned his spectacles. Truly, Harry didn't need spectacles, but he found himself wearing them so often that he had a hard time focusing in on details without them. He also thought he looked a little smarter with them on. He inspected himself in his full-length mirror one last time before leaving for the captains quarters.  
Harry ignored the stares from his crewmates. A few scoffed quietly and a few laughed openly. He spotted Cornelius Hickey elbow his mate and point. Harry looked in the other direction. He didn’t care about them. That is, unless the captain remotely thought anything similar about his garish outfit. Then Harry would care very much indeed, and probably proceed to profusely cry himself to sleep and hope to never wake again.  
He sighed a breath of relief as he reached the captains door. The doctor gathered himself, planted his heels on the ground and straightened his coat before knocking on James’s door. The doorknob turned and his captains familiar face peeked through.  
“Harry!” James cheered. He quickly pulled Harry into his quarters and closed the door. He leaned his head down and caught his lips in a quick kiss. Harry had to stand on his toes to meet James. His heart still fluttered at James’s kiss, even if it was just a peck.  
James pulled off and set Harry down, looking over his outfit with a humorous look.  
“What's all this?” James smiled, amused. Harry felt his face heat up as saw James’s incredibly… casual outfit. He wore a white vest over his creme jumper, simple as that. His wavy hair fell about his Beautiful but tired face as it always did. Harry felt himself shrink. He felt blindingly stupid in his puffy tailcoat and fluffy trousers. It dawned on him that the crew and the captain now had the laughable image of fat, sweaty little Goodsir stuffed impossibly into an excessive dandy court outfit burnt into their brains forever. It would make incredible dinner stories when the expedition ended, about Harry Goodsir: the Fop of the H.M.S. Erebus. He bit his lip and cursed himself internally as he felt tears prick in his eyes and fall hot down his cheeks. James’s smile faded immediately.  
“Oh, no, Harry. I didn’t mean it like that.” James brushed a stray curl off of Harry's forehead.  
“Look at me.” he commanded, holding his chin and moving his thumb up to carefully wipe away Harry’s tears. Harry's glittering, wet eyes flicked from the ground to James.  
“You look wonderful, Harry. I only said that because I felt a little underdressed. I-I should have told you it was going to be so casual.”  
Harry sniffed and re-gathered himself. He looked up at James (truly up; James was very tall) and forced his mouth to pull into a smile.  
“Does that mean I can take this coat off?”  
“Of course.” James turned and walked towards the table as Harry undid his tight buttons. He exhaled in relief as he took the constricting thing off, thankful not have to suck in his stomach anymore.  
James appreciated how soft Harry was. There were no sharp angles on his entire being, just smooth and irresistibly huggable curves and planes. He watched harry neatly fold his tailcoat and place it on the floor next to the door before turning and walking towards the table. Harry walked in a peculiar way; he stepped on his toes and leaned forward a little bit, causing Him to bounce a little with each step. There were so many little details about Harry that made James smile.  
Harry stopped when he saw the table. There was a plethora of incredibly fancy foods all glimmering in the cabin’s low light. James pulled out a chair and offered it to Harry. He scurried over to sit down as James walked to other side of the table.  
“Goodness..” Harry breathed. “I-I didn’t even know we had meringue on the ship.” He fixed his eyes on a pie decorated with careful white swirls.  
“We had eggs and sugar.” James shrugged. James watched with adoration as Harry’s eyes glowed curiously at the food in front of him. James thought it a little sad that Harry was somehow unaware how cute he was. Harry’s mouth watered at the thought of whatever flavor the pie might be, unaware of James’s loving stares.  
“Ah..I-I suppose we shouldn’t start with dessert though, should we?” Harry looked over the rest of the table. A large game pie stood triumphantly in the middle, the plate garnished with piles of grapes and fresh berries. Surrounding it was a long tray of roasted potatoes, broccolini and asparagus, a round platter of devilled eggs and a leafy salad drizzled with vinegar. Closer to harry sat a still-steaming platter of fish with lemon peels and pepper dotting it's surface and a smaller dish of peas next to it. On James’s side sat the prized pie and a small pile of wrapped chocolates and peppermint candy.  
“You can have whatever you want, dear.”  
Harry was spoiled for choice as to what to break into. James leaned over and began cutting himself a piece from the raised pie. It was packed with guinea fowl, pigeon, chicken and venison.  
“I suppose I shall start there as well!” Harry decided. James raised his eyebrows and wordlessly offered the cut slice in his knife and fork.  
“Oh no, I-I’ll cut my own. Thank you though.” Harry smiled politely and cut a piece about half the size of James’s portion. After placing the piece onto his plate, he quickly forked a grape and popped it into his mouth. He looked at James take in a mouthful of meat as he bit down on his fruit. He wondered how someone seem so poised and graceful, even in eating. He had only seen James a few times in questionable condition, his eyes dark and his hair mussed, looking as if he were about to fall over. Harry would have to put effort in restraining himself from going over to his captain and helping him stand. Now, like most times, James seemed to radiate a beauty and pride that seemed to woo even those who thought ill of him. Harry continued to dress his plate with scoops of vegetables, a modest handful of salad and two eggs.  
Harry noticed that for the first time perhaps on the entire expedition, his face was completely relaxed. He felt comfortable in here with James, sharing dinner and laughs and looks of love so ripe that both men felt as if their hearts would burst.  
“I didn’t know the ships cook was capable of this.. Level of formality.”  
“He isn’t” James snorted. Harry's face went blank and his eyes went wide for a moment.  
“You made all this?” The sound of his voice through a mouthful of food made James laugh.  
“God no!” He held up a devilled egg and inspected it. “I borrowed Jopson today.” He pushed the egg into his mouth and closed his lips around it.  
“Oh,” Harry said, a little distracted. “Props to Jopson, then.”  
Harry finished two plates of food before he felt a familiar drowsy fullness. James noticed this in the way harry slowly chewed down his last bite of pie crust. He tiredly pushed together the scraps of meat and vegetable on his empty plate with his fork and licked it off.  
“You haven’t forgot about desert, have you?” James teased. Harry's eyes brightened.  
“Goodness, I think I have!” Harry craned his neck to see the pie he had forgotten about. Even now he wanted a slice. He could afford to restrain, he thought, but he could also afford to just let it go and allow himself to enjoy an evening alone with the man he loved and looked up to.  
He watched as James cut a sizable piece and lifted it from the tray. Under the piles of meringue was a thick layer of dark chocolate. James tongue stuck out as he maneuvered the slice onto a smaller plate. Harry was about to reach over to cut his own when James scooted his chair around the table. He sat on the side adjacent to Harry and placed the plate between them.  
Even sitting, James noticed how much taller he was than Harry. He hunched over as non-patronizingly as he could and stuck a spoon into the pie. Harry was confused on why James moved over without a word. Just to.. Eat closer, perhaps? Harry had no problem with it; It wasn’t often that he got a chance to openly stare and admire his captains perfect features. He was taken aback as the spoonful of chocolate and meringue was poked towards his mouth. A dot of white fluff hit his chin. He blinked and stared down at the bite. Harry was confused; He looked back up at James.  
James edged him on by raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth. Harry nodded and mouthed a response before leaning in to close his mouth around the spoon. He hesitantly glanced at James from time to time, pulling off of the spoon and wiping the fluff off of his chin. He didn’t know if he quite liked being fed like a sick child- He didn't know what to do with his hands or where to look. He decided to look at James.  
James had a look about his face that Harry hadn’t seen before. His lips were pulled into a gentle smile, enhancing the definition of the lines around his mouth. His eyes were half-lidded and warm and his eyebrows tilted upwards to create an expression that made Harry blush. He didn’t know if he had a word for this emotion. “Love” was too broad. “Pity” was too negative. Something greater than comfort radiated from James and encompassed the two as Harry was fed spoonfuls of chocolate pie. Occasionally James took a bite for himself and sighed at its rich taste.  
When the pie slice was effectively diminished, James put the spoon down and placed his hand on Harry’s leg. They looked into each others eyes and leaned in for a kiss. James’s hand traveled up his thigh and he squeezed the soft flesh beneath the fabric. Harry protested with a groan and placed his hand on James's. He was too tired and frankly not ready for such intimacies yet. James acknowledged without breaking the kiss, turning his head to get a better angle.  
They broke away with a smile. Harry still hadn’t figured out that he could breathe through his nose as he kissed James, so each kiss left him a little breathless. James liked the sight of Harry subtly puffing after the act. James rubbed Harry’s fuzzy cheek.  
“I love you, darling.” The words lit Goodsir's mind a second time. It came from a place of comfort and trust this time around. No tears, no desperation.  
“I love you too.”

Climbing back to reality from his love-bird high, Harry realized that he definitely, definitely overindulged. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tight stomach. He felt warm and sleepy. An idea poked into Harry's mind.  
“Hm.. James?” He piped. His tone was hesitant. James hummed a response.  
“Would it be- if-if i could,” Harry shook his head. “I’d hate for all this to go to waste.. W-would you mind if I brought some for.. For the-”  
“For the lady silence?” James interjected.  
“Yes..” Harry was worried for James’s response. He didn’t like hearing the mutters about Silna or the names they called her. It would hurt his heart to hear James call her anything similar. James knew that Harry had a fondness for the Inuit woman. He gave in; How could he say no to a simple act of kindness?  
“Alright. You can take as much as you can carry.”  
Goodsirs face lit up  
“Thank you Captain!”  
He prepared a tray with things he thought Silna might like. He forked over the remaining fish, cut another slice of the game pie, grabbed a handful of berries and whatever was left of the potatoes. He cut her a good slice of the Meringue pie and held the tray up to his chest.  
“I-I’ll be going now...” James unwrapped a chocolate and fit it into his mouth as Harry spoke.  
“Um… I enjoyed tonight!” Harry felt the familiar awkwardness creep up on him once more.  
“I can tell.” James teased. “Now, stop breaking into the food storage or i’ll have you thrown off the ship. You’ll pay for those packs of forsaken biscuits” He pointed his finger at Harry. The smile on his face and glint in his eye told Harry he wasn't entirely serious.  
Harry's face froze in panic  
“I- oh!” He sighed “Yes sir.”  
“Have a good night, Harry.”  
“You too, sir.”  
James got up to help close the door after Harry. He watched him scoot off into the stuffy hallways of the ship, missing his presence already. He looked to the floor and saw Harry’s tailcoat still folded on the floor. Something told James that he didn’t care too much about its return.

Harry knocked Quietly at Silna's door before sliding the door open. He frowned at the sight of Silna sitting on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Something told him she had been doing this since she woke up. She moved to look at Harry as he walked in with the tray. Her expression did not change. Harry smiled nonetheless, placing the tray down where it usually went. Silna's eyes widened. This food was much better looking than the reddish-brown meat mush she usually forced down her throat. Harry tried to scrape up the right Inuktitut words, knowing already that he would butcher them. What was supposed to come out as “Tastes great” ended up being “Mouth’s big!”. Silna stared with raised eyebrows at the pitiful garble of words. Harry shrugged and scooted to sit on the floor across from Silna.

Harry was punted awake. He didn't even realize that he went to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and shifted to sit up as Silna pushed the tray back towards Harry. The fish were gone completely. The fillings of the game pie were diminished, leaving the picked-clean pie crust almost entirely intact on the plate. Silna held the remainder of the berries in her hand. A single tiny rejected bite was taken out of the meringue pie. Harry just had to accept the bewildering fact that Silna didn’t like the taste of chocolate.  
“Good?” Harry tried. Silna fit a blueberry in her mouth without a response.  
Harry sighed. He didn’t want to leave Silna alone in here, but it's not like any other place on the ship would be any better.  
“Well.. Goodnight.” Harry picked up the tray and made his way back to his own bed.  
He fell asleep with thoughts of James and his loving stares. Of his ever-present charisma and spark. He wondered how someone like goodsir ended up snagging his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> formatting will be the death of me


End file.
